


Two Voices

by magistrainartis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magistrainartis/pseuds/magistrainartis
Summary: In a newly-born World of Ruin, Prompto must choose between living in his past or forging a new future.





	1. Chapter 1

He had to keep going. Keep going downward. Keep going toward the exit. Keep going away from the Crystal. Away from Noct. Keep going as his nerves’ slow burn grew hotter and his head grew heavier. As the two voices behind him grew quieter and more concerned, afraid that he’d hear. That he’d stop. He couldn’t stop. Keep going.

Gladio and Ignis were doing their best. They’d forced him to rest, had tried helping him sleep, but the nightmares crawled behind his eyes and under his skin, over every bruise and in every slice. He’d sealed the memories away to complete the mission, buried them in a locked box just as Cor had trained him, and Noct had never noticed. But the box was leaking, and Prompto didn’t know how or when it would burst. He just knew he couldn’t put the guys in danger, so he had to get them out of Zegnatus, away from Gralea, back toward a place where people were still alive and his own shadows didn’t roam the halls, dragging swords behind them.

 _Two voices_ , he kept reminding himself. Two voices instead of one meant this was all real. Sometimes the murmuring blended into one low hum and his head snapped up, on alert for flickers of darkness behind Gladio’s eyes or a cruel smirk marring Ignis’ face. But there were always two of them, two friends staying by his side for reasons he still didn’t understand. He’d stay here alone if they didn’t need his barcode to escape, and if the last thing he did was to save them from this place it would have all been worth it.

The three descended more quickly as the rumble of demons grew louder from the floors above. The monsters had retreated in the instant Noct touched the Crystal; they’d all felt the shudder of ancient magic. But the demons were regrouping, howling for the blood they’d been denied. As a behemoth’s roar rang through the Keep, Prompto tripped over his feet. He heard only the cries of the person that beast must once have been, felt echoes of his own avoided fate.

Prompto’s knees scraped against the cold steel floor, but he scrambled up before he could be offered a hand. He was fine. Noct had healed most of his wounds when they’d freed Prompto from the rack, and the residual bruising would clear. He kept reassuring the guys that it looked worse than it was, and tried to ignore Ignis’ obvious skepticism. What more could he tell them as they fled? Even Noct’s magic couldn’t heal the pain in his shoulders from days of hanging shackled, couldn’t touch the insomnia stoking his tension, couldn’t exorcise the dogs barking in his mind.

He raised his head at the sound of Gladio’s step quickening and the grunt as the Shield hoisted his sword. By the grace of the Six, they could still use the Armiger. They’d rounded a curve and ahead lay open doors and dusky light, barred by a dozen magitek soldiers. Without hesitation, Prompto summoned the Drillbreaker and unleashed a wave of piercing energy through the machines, which crumpled like cans beneath the weapon’s force. Prompto silently stored his weapon. No fanfare, no shouts of victory. He ignored Gladio’s frown of concern and pushed through the soldiers’ wreckage. What could he care about a pile of broken machines? Each one he passed wore his own face, illusions born of exhaustion. Prompto set his jaw and steeled his heart, heading toward the light.

They stumbled through ruin. Prompto didn’t ask about the Regalia; he knew she was dead, and he couldn’t care. Travel was slow on foot, with Ignis needing to pick his way through debris and Prompto shuffling without caring where his feet landed. Gralea loomed all around and overhead, a dead city that still pulsed with a hidden energy source. Shadows crept between buildings whose black spires cancelled out nearly all the light still breaking through the gloom. Shadows with fangs, with knives, with burning eyes. And one, fleeting, with a flowing scarf and open coat.

Ignis noticed the hitch in Prompto’s breath before Prompto even felt the impact of terror in his chest. He felt steel in his hands and smelled gunpowder as bullets blasted the stillness, but felt as if someone else’s fingers were on the triggers, someone else’s ears were ringing with each shot. Each round tore at a different wound, a different taunt whispered into his ear as he lay bound and bleeding. _Worthless_. _Friendless_. _Monstrous_. His bullets spent themselves too quickly.

Prompto came back to himself to see the shadows had fled, and Gladio and Ignis had drawn near. Without a word, Ignis reached out and retrieved the empty guns from Prompto’s grip. Prompto sank to the ground, his head whirling with Ardyn’s words and his torn shoulders screaming for relief. _Leave me. Just...leave me_ , he thought, too drained to speak the words aloud.

Gladio passed a hand over his face before turning to Ignis. “Give me ten minutes.” With his shield raised, Gladio jogged toward the closest group of buildings. Prompto sank to the ground and rested his head on his bent knees. It was ok now. Gladio would help Ignis get out and they’d be ok. He’d helped the guys, and that was all he wanted to do. Now it could be over.

Prompto flinched when he felt Ignis’ gloved hand brush his shoulder. Even though he’d taken only a few steps from his friend, he should have known Ignis would worry when he couldn’t tell exactly where Prompto was. He could practically hear Ardyn’s voice in his head: _Terribly stupid, aren’t we, little clone? You’ve left dear Ignis alone in the dark. Excellent job being his friend, Prompto, well done. And you wonder why they’d have let you rot in my company if their dear Noct hadn’t run off after you._

His head still buried in his knees, Prompto felt Ignis sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Prompto closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable scolding.

Ignis’ voice was careful. “We’ll find shelter. Somewhere you can properly rest while we determine our escape route. It won’t be long, Prompto,” Ignis placed a hand on Prompto’s wrist, where a bracelet had once hidden his tattoo. “You’ll be alright.”

Prompto looked up to see Ignis’ face turned toward him, his mouth a thin line and his brow creased with worry. Prompto’s breath began to catch in his chest. Not here, not now, he thought as his lashes dampened with tears. “Ig-..Iggy...I’m not o-...not okay. I think...think I need...” With each word, Prompto’s hands shook harder and chest grew tighter.

Ignis shifted to rest his arm around Prompto’s shoulders, not suffocating, not constricting, just _there_. “I know.” Ignis sighed, almost sadly. “Believe me, I know. We’ll get you to a proper bed and you can rest. And then we’ll talk about getting to safety. You’re not alone, Prompto. You’re alright. You’re alright.” Ignis softly repeated himself as Prompto closed his eyes again and rested against his knees. He wasn’t alright. But the frenzy wasn’t as loud now, with Iggy’s voice in his ear and arm a life preserver around him.

They remained that way until Gladio’s heavy tread announced his return. The Shield grinned in triumph as he told them of his find: an apartment building for Nif higher-ups, built on magitek runes that looked just like an oracle’s haven. The demons couldn’t get near it by ground or by air, and the power was still running. Gladio paused in his description when he saw Prompto’s pale face and red-rimmed eyes, but a sharp shake of Ignis’ head put him back on track as he pointed the way to refuge.

Prompto pulled himself to his feet and forced himself to follow Gladio as they picked their way through alleys, avoiding the rubble on the main thoroughfare. He barely registered the apartment complex itself, although he automatically took out his camera to capture the glowing red runes surrounding the building. Ignis started to recommend they take the stairs rather than risk an elevator ride with an uncertain power supply, but stopped part way through his suggestion. Prompto sagged with relief; his vision was blurring and his feet were lead, and he’d started to seriously worry about collapse.

The three rode up to the highest floor: furthest from the demons and the best vantage point. Gladio easily broke the penthouse door, and they entered a room that looked like it was waiting for its owner to return. Prompto immediately felt himself hoisted off his feet. Gladio didn’t ask permission or forgiveness. He simply picked up Prompto as if he weighed nothing, carried him to the nearest bedroom, and placed him on the bed.

“I’ll be right here, Prom. Nothing’s getting to you. Go to sleep.”

Prompto wearily kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his vest, too exhausted to do any more before crawling under the blankets. The pillow was cool against his cheek and the silken sheets gentle on his bruised skin as he closed his eyes and willed the world away. For the briefest moment, he smelled coffee, leather, and lavender before his grip on consciousness was blessedly loosed and he slipped into an exhausted sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto’s shoulders screamed as he was lifted to sitting. A straw was forced between his cracked lips. Prompto coughed and choked on the liquid, and sank into darkness.

 A stabbing in his left hand. Ignis’ voice scolding, Gladio’s defensive, “It’s been a while!” A sharp pinch. “Yeah, there we go.” Darkness again.

 A warm cloth bathing his chest, the smell of soap. Ignis talking quietly about nothing in particular. Tinkling water in a basin. Prompto’s breathing relaxed as he slipped back into sleep.

 Clean sheets against his bare skin. A comforter cocooning him in warmth. Prompto turned over and sighed. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt….

 *

The tug in his hand pulled Prompto to full wakefulness. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and squinted at the tubing attached to his left hand, trying to piece together how he’d ended up in a hospital. _Why does a hospital have such nice sheets?_ Rubbing his eyes, Prompto shook off his brain-fog. Reality descended as he took in the massive bed, the high-ceilinged room, and Gladio snoring beside him. Ignis sat on Gladio’s side of the bed, with one earbud in his ear. He quickly removed the other at the sound of his friend stirring. “Prompto? Are you awake?”

Prompto groaned and nodded before answering aloud. “Yeah,” he rasped, his throat a mess of razor blades. Ignis roughly shook Gladio’s shoulder on his way to Prompto’s side of the bed; the Shield only grumbled and threw the comforter over his head, still snoring.

“Don’t move just yet. I’m not certain that IV is secure, and I’d rather not have to listen to Gladio perform more field medicine.” Ignis placed a reassuring hand on Prompto’s bare shoulder. “How do you feel?”

Prompto sank back into the pillow as he took stock. He felt like a metal band was wrapped around his head, and just turning on the pillow made him dizzy, but the exhaustion had lifted. His nerves were cooled and the deep aches had faded. “I’m alright. How long was I out?”

Ignis frowned. “Going by the clocks, it’s been nearly 42 hours. You woke a few times, but seemed to go back to sleep quickly.”

Prompto put his arm over his eyes and nodded. “I remember. Huh, that explains the stabbing,” he raised his IV-restricted hand. As quietly as possible, Prompto removed the line from his hand and covered the puncture with the remaining surgical tape. _What Ignis doesn’t know won’t get me told off_.

Prompto gingerly raised himself to sitting. The dizziness cleared within a minute, and he registered Ignis motioning to a tray beside him. “Not my best work, but Gladio assures me he didn't hand me any poisonous ingredients.” The simple dish of pasta and broth looked like a feast as Prompto’s hunger asserted itself. Afraid of the dizziness returning, he swung one leg at a time over the bed. He’d registered the lush carpet against his toes before the room’s cool air hit his naked skin. Prompto blushed to the roots of his hair. “Um, Iggy? I was wearing clothes when I passed out, right?”

Ignis shifted in discomfort, but his voice remained authoritative as ever. “I took the chance to do laundry while we still have electricity. Frankly, Prompto, I couldn’t take the smell any longer.” Ignis said nothing of the bath, and Prompto didn’t push it. He was just grateful to be rid of the last few weeks’ filth. He pulled the tray closer and ate as slowly as possible. His stomach turned knots on his best days, and he didn’t need to add intestinal issues to his list of problems.

“Your clothing is on the dresser.” The corner of Ignis’ mouth turned up. “Go ahead, I promise I won’t look.”

Hunger satisfied, Prompto got to his feet and paused to make sure he wouldn’t fall over before grabbing his clothes and camera. As he dressed, he took quick stock of their temporary refuge. Gladio had been right when he’d said this place housed Niflheim’s higher-ups. The modern design was luxurious, but the furniture’s clean lines and the stark white walls made the room feel more like a hotel than a home. Other than a watch abandoned on the night stand, there were no personal items.

Careful not to disturb Gladio, Prompto headed out of the bedroom and down a short hallway to the main living space. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panorama of Gralea that must once have been stunning. Now, it showed a city fast becoming a graveyard. Black buildings rose against the dim sky, the sun a low-burning flame behind the towers. Although the power was still on, it noticeably flickered in a building several blocks away. Prompto raised his camera and zoomed in to see dark shapes beating themselves against the building when the lights dimmed, only to retreat when the power was restored. No place would be safe for long.

Prompto sank onto a couch and stared out over the city. Was Noct still in the Keep? Ignis had seemed so sure Noct would be alright, had said something about Noct being “much older” before seeming to realize he was thinking aloud and refusing to say another word. Older than what? If they were going back to Lucis, how long would they have to wait?

 His thinking was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, about time you got up,” Gladio said as he sat next to his friend. “Feeling ok?”

 “Yeah,” Prompto nodded. “Um, thanks for the IV I guess? How the hell’d you find something like that?”

 Gladio perked up, his black eyes shining. “Got sick of trying to force-feed you water, so I figured a building like this must have some kind of first-aid station or something. Lucked out - there’s a whole damn clinic on the ground floor. So I grabbed some saline and the stuff I needed to get you hooked up.” He shot Ignis a pointed look that somehow Ignis seemed to perceive. “ _Someone_ thought I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Ignis found his way to a chair opposite them and sat, his arms and legs crossed. “Considering you’ve never shown the ability to so much as sew a button, you’ll have to forgive my concern that you had literally no idea what you were doing.”

Gladio smirked. “See, while Iggy was learning to play piano, I was learning to tie tourniquets and cauterize wounds in the field. Dad always said a Shield’s no good if the King gets a scratch and dies of blood poisoning. So yeah, I had _some_ idea what I was doing.” He reached over with his foot and teasingly kicked Ignis’ shin. “Iggy’s just jealous that now I’m actually better at this stuff than he is.”

Ignis’ scoff was half-laugh, half choke, but Gladio ignored him, drew a pill bottle from his pocket, and handed it to Prompto. “Grabbed these too. Careful with the dosage, but they’ll take the edge off your shoulders until we can get a doc to look at you.”

Prompto immediately swallowed one of the capsules. He’d have chewed it if he thought it would ease the pain faster. As it was, he figured he had a good twenty minutes before he’d get any relief. Desperate for distraction, he flicked on his camera and began flipping through photos.

“So what’s the plan now?” Prompto asked, smiling at a shot of Noct sleeping curled up with a fluorescent pink chocobo before setting the photos to scroll backward from the most recent.

Gladio rose and began pacing along the window. “We're good on supplies. There's a ton of food in the freezer and tons more in the cupboards. We've got water stored up in case the power turns off and we’ve got medical supplies. So we'll stay holed up here until-” the thought was interrupted by Ignis rising to smack his cane on the hardwood floor.

“Until we are besieged by daemons while we wait for Aranea to respond to text messages she's not receiving!” Ignis threw down the cane in frustration. “I keep reminding Gladiolus that there is likely a communications station close by, considering who once lived here. But he refuses to search for it while he still can, which won't be for long…”

Prompto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d always had Noct to help him make a quick escape from Ignis and Gladio’s bickering. He knew they both cared, but his shoulders still burned, his head still ached, and his stomach was beginning to wonder if solid food had been a good idea. Prompto rested his elbows on his knees and mindlessly clicked through his photos, oblivious to Gladio plunking onto the cushion beside him and leaning over to see the shots even as he squabbled with Ignis about the dangers of leaving the haven.

As the photos flashed by, Gladio stopped mid-argument. “Damn, Prompto. Should have told us you had personal time with the Commodore.” He leaned over to get a better look at the photos of Aranea mid-jump, her lance flashing. Prompto grinned and handed over the camera.

“Check out some of the earlier ones. Dude, she’s the baddest ass I’ve ever met. Like, three times as bad as your ass.” Gladio started describing the photos in detail to Ignis, who blushed scarlet at remarks on how good Aranea was with a shaft and how she could jump high enough to clear Ignis’ hairdo. When Ignis started sputtering about how his interest in Aranea was purely based on her tactical skills, Prompto laughed aloud for the first time in weeks. _Damn_ , he thought, _maybe for five minutes things can be normal again_.

But Gladio’s grin vanished, and his eyes grew wide. Prompto went cold and grabbed the camera back, but too late.

“Six, what was that? Prompto, where the fuck were you? Who were those guys?” Gladio grasped Prompto by the upper arms and fixed his gaze, his interrogation training overcoming his better judgement. Prompto squirmed away, clutching the camera to his chest and stumbling toward the windows.

“Gladio?” Ignis rose, too, cane in hand.

Gladio didn’t move, but kept his eyes locked on Prompto. “There’s photos of some kind of lab or warehouse or something. There’s a bunch of guys in these tube things and godsdamnit I don’t know what the fuck they are but they all look like Prompto.”

Ignis tilted his head in Prompto’s direction, his expression concerned. “Prompto...where did you go when you first arrived in Gralea? Do you need to tell us anything?”

Prompto’s flicker of hope turned cold. For a moment, a false grin stretched his face and he raised his hands to make light of the situation. But as he opened his mouth to begin making jokes and excuses, the ice inside his chest shattered. His grin twisted into a tired grimace, and each word felt like a hammer on a nail.

“Really? You wanna know what happened to _me_ ? I told you I’m a Nif and one step away from being a magitek soldier, and that’s already, like, 200% more than I know about whatever the fuck happened to you, Ignis.” Eyes burning, he turned on his friend. “How about you tell us what happened after Leviathan attacked, huh? How’d you go blind, Iggy? Wanna relive that fun experience for me and Gladio? I bet it’ll really help us understand you better. And don’t feed us that bullshit about you not remembering, because we know godsdamned well something freaked you the fuck out and you won’t tell us what it is. We’re not stupid, you know. We _saw_ Noct’s ring.

“Don’t you _dare_ touch me.” Prompto wheeled on Gladio, who’d approached with hand outstretched to steady him. “Don’t expect me to tell you all about my shit when you haven’t so much as _mentioned_ what happened to your dad or the King or everybody in Insomnia. Do you even fucking _have_ feelings? For fuck’s sake, Noct is gone and we can’t help him and gods only know what’s happening back home and you act like everything’s just great when we’re stuck here in hell.”

All three men stood transfixed, not daring to speak or move. As the silence grew, so did the wings fluttering in Prompto’s stomach and the voice lingering in his ear. _Well done, well done, Prompto! Truly a stunning display of idiocy. Perhaps when your friends have left you alone here I’ll come find you and we can play more games…._

Prompto crumpled, tears flowing freely as he rested his forehead on the cool wooden floor. When he felt Gladio’s hand on his back, he turned to his friend and hugged him fiercely, stammering apologies between sobs. Gladio just hugged him back, every bit the big brother comforting his distressed sibling.

“Never mind, Prompto,” Gladio sighed. “You don’t have to tell us anything. Sorry I got intense there.”

“Gl-Gladio I’m s-sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, I said it’s ok. I, uh, I just...can’t. Not part of my job to let this shit affect me, you know? Not when I gotta do for Noct what my dad did for the King.” Gladio paused before continuing, choosing his words to avoid further upsetting his friend. “Go easy on Iggy, ok? He paid one hell of a price for whatever decision he made in Altissia.” Prompto nodded against Gladio’s chest, the panic in his stomach beginning to calm. Ignis approached carefully, and knelt down to grasp Prompto’s arm.

“No need to say more. If you ever wish to share your story with us, we’ll be here to listen, that’s all.”

Prompto nodded. “Yeah. I just...not yet, ok?” He took a deep breath and willed himself to his feet. “I think maybe I’ll head back to bed for a while if-”

A screech and smash against the window stopped Prompto mid-sentence and all three men reflexively summoned their weapons. Outside, an ahriman beat its bat-like wings against the glass, its one great eye fixed on the group inside.

“What the hell?” Gladio muttered as Ignis called to Prompto to turn on as many lights as he could. Prompto ran to the nearest switch, flicked it on, and...nothing. He frantically flicked the switch on and off, willing the power to work. In their upset, the three hadn’t noticed that the whirr of the fridge had quieted or that the light in the bedroom had gone out.

Drawing on his courage, Prompto approached the window and leaned out. The red glow at the building’s base was gone, and the runes had gone out with the power. He gripped his guns more tightly as he surveyed the swarming mass of daemons congregating on the ground, and was startled away from the window by a second ahriman flapping up from the lower floors.

Gralea had officially died, and its inhabitants were looking for company.


End file.
